Chapter 11
Theo came to my estate for the first time two weeks later.
Anwen came too.
As his mother.
Not staff.
She wore a simple blue dress and looked more uncomfortable than she ever had in uniform.
Interesting.
Uniform had told her where to stand.
Freedom did not.
I showed her the nursery.
She frowned.
“No.”
I almost laughed.
“What?”
“Too big.”
Fair.
Theo was eight months old.
He did not need a room the size of a hotel suite.
We moved half the furniture out.
Better.
Then he cried when I picked him up.
Humbling.
I had commanded men twice my age without raising my voice.
My own son looked at me and screamed.
Anwen laughed.
I deserved that.
“Try sitting.”
I sat.
She placed Theo in my lap while remaining close.
He stared at my tattoos.
Touched one finger.
Stopped crying.
Progress.
I did not call myself Dad.
Not yet.
Names should not be demanded either.
Anwen watched carefully.
“You’re different with him.”
“From what?”
“Everyone.”
True.
He had no idea what my ring meant.
No idea why adults lowered voices around me.
He cared whether my watch reflected light.
Useful correction.
Then he grabbed my tie.
Hard.
Anwen laughed again.
I looked at Theo.
“You’re expensive already.”
She stopped laughing.
Bad joke.
I understood immediately.
“I mean diapers.”
She exhaled.
The wages.
Of course.
Money had become loaded.
I corrected myself.
“You cost nothing to belong here.”
Anwen looked at me.
That mattered.
Theo sneezed directly onto my shirt.
Apparently sentiment has limits.
Good.
May you like
The room became ordinary.
Exactly what I wanted.
